Inquiries on Immortality and Other Subjects
by ProneToHiatus
Summary: With the tensions of the war in the air, many strange things go unnoticed. One of which is a new patient at St. Mungo's Hospital: a Ruby Rose. Just who is she and why is she asking so many questions? Goodness, she can be arrested for asking those! More alone than she has even been, follow Ruby as she stumbles through a world where magic is ever-present. (Set after Volume 7).
1. Chapter One: Purge and Dowsy , Ltd.

_Author's Note_ (Do people even read this? Skip if you want):

Not gonna skip the note, huh? Well, I'm not going to say too much to avoid spoiling latter chapters. But I do hope you will give this story a shot and I hope you like it! Now without further ado, let's get on with the story.

**Inquiries on Immortality and other Subjects**

**Chapter 1: St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries**

There was a distinct scent about the London air—the type that is somewhat similar to a combination of other aromas, a bit of smoke there, but the most defining description would be "smelling like London". And on this particular day, there was a light mix of sweat as people hustled around the crowded streets. The sun bore down the full force of the summer heat in the cloudless sky, shone upon a man knelt down next the wheel of an automobile, tools in hand. An older man sat within, scanning the front of a newspaper, absentmindedly handing coins to a boy waiting, satchel under arm.

A young woman leaned against a red brick wall not too far, eyeing them with boredom. She took a long drag from the cigarette that was held deftly between her fingers, then breathed out, watched the smoke swirl before vanishing, when she noticed a dab of bright blue.

A man that looked to be around his early forties or late thirties with a long crooked nose strode in a leisurely pace, donning an electric blue suit that looked like it had recently been doused in dye. His eyes scaled the bricks building the wall, almost as if he could see through them, before his eyes trailed down to the woman. The man's eyebrows rising for a fraction, a kind smile spreading on his lips.

"Pleasant morning to you, Tiana." He greeted, stopping before her.

With a wave of the hand, the cigarette vanished, much like the smoke that was drawn from it, into the air. She let her arm drop to her side.

"You speak as if we meet every so-often." Tiana commented. She gave him a once over. "Outfit to match the weather?"

"_Ah._" The man breathed looking up to the sky as if it's the first time he saw it that day. "A coincidence on my part. Or perhaps I may have dormant ability as a Seer."

Tiana almost scoffed. "Wouldn't be surprised if you were."

The man met her glance again.

"Outside to appreciate the clear day?" he inquired.

"Outside—even though it is_ scorching_— to see a different scene that maladies and hospital beds." She replied, watching the wheel of the automobile come loose. "A few new ones came in last night. More people who had fled from France."

The expression on the man's face seemed to darken a shade as his expression shifted to neutral.

"I see."

"You will, once you head inside." Tiana straightened up away from the wall. "They're not hard to miss, the French."

The man blinked. A twinkle seeming to find its place in his eyes. "Indeed?"

"At least to _moi_, it is apparent zhat zhey had come from France."

A light chuckle shook the man's shoulders. "You accuse me of greeting you with familiarity, yet here you are speaking to me nonchalantly. "

"I don't have any remaining energy or patience for formalities. Quite frankly, I'd like very much to go home and collapse into my covers." Tiana replied as her saw the young boy carrying the newspapers watch them with a curious look on his face. "But there are still people in there that need healing as of now. I can just hope to have time to catch up on rest before more arrive."

The boy approached them almost shakily, raising a sheet that displayed the headline in thick black letters above an unmoving picture. The man turned his head at the child then blinked with unmasked interest.

"Would you like a copy of today's newspaper?"

Tiana raised a brow. "Isn't it 'Would you like to _purchase_ a copy?'? Are you giving them away for free now?"

The boy's ear grew red, and he lowered the paper.

"I would like a copy." The man said.

He instantly brightened up, shoving the issue a little too enthusiastically into the man's hand. The man fished for a few coins in his pocket.

"Oh! My bad!" the boy piqued, scrambling to be the strap of the satchel off his shoulders. "Pardon me sir. Would you like the copy of the _Daily Prophet?"_

Flap of the bag still on, the boy had his hand stuck within the bag deep enough that his fingers was likely to be grazing the bottom

"I'm fine with just this one. Thank you." The man replied.

"Oh," the boy pulled his hand out again. "Alright, then."

He turned towards Tiana.

"Well, don't look at me. You already gave us our daily supply." She sighed before turning back to the man.

"Newspaper boy. Delivers newspaper to us. It stands to argue that owls aren't commonly found in this area." Tiana clarified, "We tried to have just a single owl deliver daily so they would assume it was a pet, but even _that_ got some interested."

There was a small clink as the man managed to fish out a few bronze pieces. The boy seemed to be in a bit of a trance as he handed them, staring absently at the man, then coins before blinking back into focus and accepting.

"Sorry 'bout that, sir." He dropped the coins into pocket of his trousers, dropping heavily on what sounded like a stack of change on the otherwise flat-and-empty-looking pocket.

"There is nothing to apologize about, my boy."

His face flushed even further. "T-thank you, sir."

There was a bit of a pause. The cigarette reappeared and disappeared in Tiana's palm as she flicked her hand forward and back, as if she were throwing it away but it comes bounding back into her palm.

The boy fumbled with the strap of his satchel. "I, erm…"

"_Ah,_" Tiana said quietly, "Here we go."

"Yes?" The man prompted encouragingly; a teacher talking to a shy student.

"I-I just wanted to ask you." He stuttered, then hastily added: "-sir."

The man nodded, the twinkle seemed to grow a bit brighter as his smile widened.

"Ar-Are you…" the boy started. "Albus Dumbledore?"

The man tucked the news sheet under his arm. "I believe so."

The kid had almost hopped up in excitement, bouncing on his toes.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian _Dumbledore_?"

Tiana watched the cigarette vanish as she flicked it away.

"The one and only." She answered in a bored tone. "Honestly, I never understood long names. They're unnecessary; people don't ever use the entire bloody thing—not unless you made your mum mad enough. The only time people have to remember the whole thing is in official documents."

"_I knew it!_" he exclaimed, beaming triumphantly, before collected himself. "-sir."

Shuffling his feet, he carried on: "Pardon me. It's just that I have heard _so much_ about you!"

"Good things, I hope." Albus strokes his beard.

"Good things, sir!" He nodded vigorously—Tiana wondered if he would make himself sick. "Great many good things. Extraordinary, even! Like no other man! Like, like, not even human anymore!"

"You flatter me with your compliments, my boy." Albus smiled at the child. "But I'm afraid you might be disappointed to know that I am just like any other man. Just one that has the privilege of being acknowledged and embellished."

"That's a lie." Tiana said more to no one in particular.

"But you aren't like any other man." He piped. "You are, _erm_."

"I am just like those men behind you. I am just like Tiana, here. I am just like _you_, my boy."

The child's ears flushed red. "Just like _me_? I can be like _you?"_

Dumbledore smiled a warm smile, as the boy looked up, wild-eyed at him. "You choose to be who you wish to be."

"Heart-warming." Tiana said to the invisible person she had been talking to. She took a step away from the wall, lime green cloth now hanging from one of her arms. "But I think it's already quite hot enough as it is out here— the sun hasn't even reached its peak yet. An event I'm not planning no staying around for."

"So if you excuse me, boys. I believe I have a patient that should be waking up from a sleeping potion right about now. Disoriented, that one. Thought the first few times she woke up she thought that she's been captured. I'd much rather calm her while she's still in bed and not halfway out the window."

Started to move down the pathway, stopping in front of Albus once. "If you ever plan on joining us anytime soon, I assume you know the way. Not pressuring you to go immediately—it's not like the girl can go_ anyhwere_—but I do suggest that you get your business done while we aren't so busy."

Turning back to the direction of the street, she added "To clarify, _now_ isn't too busy."

She resumed on the sidewalk before turning and vanishing into entrance of the red brick building.

"Well, I suppose I should get along with my business here." Albus said, watching the green door swing shut.

"Of course, sir." The child nodded, adjusting the strap on his shoulder.

Albus turned his head down at him. "How old are you, my boy?"

"Just turned eleven, sir." he responded.

"I suppose I'll be seeing you in school then?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, sir! I'm even selling muggle newspaper to help pay for the fees! That is, after the paying for some other stuff. But once I graduate, I don't have to sell newspapers anymore. I can go to Romania and work with magical creatures. Dragons too. Lots of dragons!"

A short chuckle erupted from the man. "I think I know a professor who would very much share your enthusiasm."

"I cannot wait to attend Hogwarts!"

"I'm sure Hogwarts would be happy to have you as well."

Bouncing on the balls of his feet he nodded once more. This time Albus worried for a brief second that he might end up taking the boy inside for treatment, with how violently he tipped his head.

"I have to go and sell more of these now." He peeked inside the bag which looked to be filled to the seams with newspaper. "It was very nice meeting you, sir!"

"And I to you."

The boy jogged down the street, reaching the corner he called out: "Have a great day!" before rounding and disappearing from sight.

Albus reached into the pocket of his bright blue suit, pulling what looked like a shining silver pocket watch, a matching chain connecting it to his pocket.

"Well, then. It's seems to be better to get going now."

Turning the direction Tiana went, he started to follow before stopping.

He had forgotten to ask the boy's name.

Despite being a professor for a few decades, the notion evaded him. Perhaps he was getting old, Albus thought, shaking his head.

A plaque that read 'Purge and Dowsy, Ltd.' in faded golden letters hung above the desolate entrance: a chipping green door with a window. Pushing the door open, a small chime of a bell was heard.

The inside of the building was significantly cooler that the outside, if not a tad humid. A steady collection of dust seemed to be hanging in the air. Albus sniffed as it tickled his nose a bit. Rows upon rows of rickety aisles and nearly colourless clothing filled the room. It held an impression of staleness, not one person in sight. The only humanoid-looking objects in the room were a few mannequins were set up in rows in the further wall, next to a line of changing cubicles.

Albus approached the mannequin nearest to the cubicles— it donned a particularly eye-catching lime green coat. A little too heavy for the weather, he mused. On top of its head was a crumpled old hat, unlike the rest of the store, it gave the impression that it had actually been used.

"I have business to attend to within the hospital." Albus said to the dummy.

The dummy, in turn, tilted its head down at him.

"Are you in need of immediate assistance?" said a voice that seemed to resonate from the mannequin; not from his mouth, not even from his head. Just a voice with no visible source.

"No." he clarified, "I am merely here to visit someone. A patient."

With a tip of the old, worn hat the dummy reached sideways, towards the thick green covers—matching the colour of its coat—of the changing cubicle. In one fluid pull that was not expected of a something that seemed to have not moved or been moved for months, the dummy pulled the curtain back. Bright white light streamed from the other side.

"Thank you."

Albus passed the dummy and went inside the cubicle, a rustle of curtains following his entrance.

Inside was what appeared to be a reception area. Rows of creaky wooden chairs lined around the room. On them sat men and women: one, Albus noticed, had a rather pretty collection of flowers growing on her arm that had taken a rather lush shade. One of the flowers fell as the woman flipped unto the next page of an outdated magazine. In the middle of the room, a desk was positioned, behind sat a tired-looking young woman. Her blonde hair was falling loose from the knot that was slowly coming undone behind her head.

She blinked slowly at the new arrival before her eyes lit up. Straightening her back and pushing the stray strands of hair away from her face, she stood up.

Albus approached her—passing a pair of young men whose naked arms were sticking together as if it they were stuck— and stopped before the desk.

"I am here to see a patient of the Janus Thickey Ward." He informs her. "I believe she is registered here under the name 'Ruby Rose'."

"Yes, yes." The woman breathed, shuffling around some papers on her desk, pulling out a small bright pink form. "Do you have the letter with you?"

"Of course. I have right here…" Albus reached into the pocket of his blue suit.

"Oh. Pardon, it seems that some items have tumbled on my way here." He stuck his hand a bit deeper within, until the top of the opening was at his elbow.

"Ah, there it is." He produced a light green envelope along with a little yellow item covered in clear wrapper. "With a little something more too— would you like a lemon sherbet?"

"No, I think I'm well." Replied the woman.

She took the envelope, opened the flap and retrieved the parchment. After giving it a quick scan, she set it down next to the small pink form, plucked a quill from the inkwell sitting behind the desk and scribbled at the form.

"Name please."

"Albus Dumbledore."

He hadn't realized all the small noises going on behind him until they all fell into hushed silence.

"I need your full name, sir." She said, without glancing up from the parchments.

"Oh pardon me. It is a bit long, most of the time I need not use it. Our dear Tiana had even—"

Somebody cleared their throat rather loudly. Albus looked up to see Tiana standing to the edge of the desk. She was clad in lime green robes now with a matching pointed hat. The image of a wand crossed with a bone was embroidered over her left chest.

"Ah, Tiana, I was just mentioning you." He beamed.

"Yes, I heard." Tiana said. "Do you make it a habit to go off on tangents every time you converse with someone or had I just had the luck to be their both times?"

"Well, I am quite fond of a nice chat."

"I'm sure you are." She agreed. "But I think Carol here is quite keen on getting some rest— it has been a lengthy night for all of us."

"No, no," the woman—Carol—waved her hand. "It's fine. I still have to stay about an hour to organize some papers. It's nice to have a little company. Well, company that isn't only interested on how to change their limbs back to their original state."

"Can't really blame them for that."

"Yes, but the conversation can get a bit dull after a few." Carol sighed. "Of course there some truly strange— borderline ludicrous ones out there. But lately most of them have just been— erm, _you know_."

"A stale day at the St. Mungo's. Tragic, somewhat, for us. Lucky for them." Tiana nodded to the line of people. Before her eyebrows furrowed at the woman with flowers popping out of her arm. "_Merlin._ Where is Jared?"

"He went out to get lunch." Carol tapped her chin. I believe his exact words were 'You're not in a rush, are you? Not really in a state of emergency; nothing lethal about having some flowers on your arm, right? Great! I'm a tad hungry. I'll go grab some bites to eat before those poppies start looking like wrapped candy.' Then he ran off."

Tiana groaned. "Bugger."

Carol shook her head. "Well, either way, here's your form."

She reached the pink parchment out to Albus, who raised a brow.

"I thought you needed my full name?"

"I think you would find it believable that a great many people know your full title. I just had to ask to follow the regular process of this."

"I see."

"_Great_. You finally have your form." Tiana pushed herself off the desk. "Come along now. _Those two_ are looking for scissors. I feel like if I'm gone for too long, they may just manage to get a pair."

Tiana moved towards arch in one of the walls, through it was a staircase.

"Are you sure you do not want a lemon sherbet? They are quite good."

Carol shook her head. "I had been eating from the candy bowl the entire night before we had free time to eat."

"I see." He dropped it back into the pocket of his coat. "I hope you will be able to get some rest."

There was an unreadable expression on her face, but somehow Albus seemed to have an inkling of what it was. "I do hope so too."

Without another word, he turned and made his way to the arch, finding an unamused Tiana tapping her fingers impatiently on the railing.

* * *

_Author's note_ (Not necessary to read but if you want to: go ahead!):

So, dazzle-dazzle electric blue suit, mister professor has some business to do with a patient named Ruby Rose. Just who is this Ruby Rose?(Though you probably already know). And just what is she doing in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries? Why is she confined within the James Thickey Ward? Will somebody finally accept a lemon sherbet (a.k.a lemon drop) from mister professor?

Find out in the next chapter of **Inquiries on Immortality and other Subjects!**

**Chapter Two: Ruby Rose**


	2. Chapter Two: The Common Area

_Author's Note:_

This one's a short one, mostly would a lead up to the following chapter which will be out in a few days. Most of the updates are short, cause college has my schedule filled and this story is my means to relieve stress.

Sincerely,

PTH

Now without further ado...

* * *

**Chapter two: The Common Area**

The Janus Thickey Ward was on the fourth floor of the hospital. With lines of beds with their own curtains and drawers, and the constant watchful eye of men and women wearing lime green robes and matching shade of pointed hats, the ward was a home to a small community of patients.

Some were leaning against the pillows on their beds, but most were on and about on that late morning of July— or most mornings for that matter. A lot of them prefer to have a life outside of their curtains, thank you very much, even though that life mostly refers to their fellow in-patients milling on and about the pathways between beds and the little common area around the back.

They were a community: the patients of the ward, albeit a small one, but a community nonetheless, with their own little culture, inside jokes and even traditions, or so Tiana tells Albus as they pass in between hospital beds.

There was a large ball of light hanging above them; a miniature version of the sun. It was even a little warm there.

The common area consisted of a few blue couches, donated by a particularly Healer who had gotten tired of constantly seeing the "sickly-shade" of green. There was a lone but wide shelf against the wall. The books were arranged neatly enough,though the collection from the middle row looked like an incomplete set of teeth. In front of the shelves and between the couches was a rather scarred coffee table; scratch marks and dents had scraped the top. Under that little area was a faded cream rug, and on top of the rug was a mess— Tiana crossed her arms in disdain, scowling at the two clear culprits sitting cross-legged.

Around them, paper was scattered along with a few bottles of ink and Muggle colouring equipment here and there. The pieces of Muggles art paper were in various states of folding. Albus avoided stepping on what looked like a small paper butterfly that had strayed from the collection as the two approached the common area.

One of the two women—though he must say, she sounds a tad too youthful to be called a woman—had his back facing him, talking animatedly:

"Tuck that in there and ta-da!" she raised a paper bird into the air with glee, a little boat made of newspaper fell off her head.

The other and clearly older—perhaps she was fast approaching her seventies— woman watched in awe. She was clad in a plain white nightgown, a folded paper hat sat on her grey hair.

"It's a flamingo?" she inquired in a light tone, voice creaking.

The girl lowered the little craft, "Well, it's supposed to be a crane but heck, it's paper so it can be either."

The older woman hummed in thought. "Well, I think it is lovely, whichever it is too."

"Aww, he thinks you're lovely too." The girl cooed, picking up an orange crayon from the rug.

"This one is male?" the woman— Agatha, Albus recognizes— inquired.

"Yep, and his name is Jerry." The girl scribbled on the piece.

"Jerry, I see." Agatha repeated. "Well, I think Jerry is a tad lonely don't you think? Perhaps we should make him a family."

"Agatha," The girl looked up, curious dark hair that toned to red at the tips falling back beside her ear. "That is a great idea and I wholeheartedly agree."

"Well," Agatha croaked out. "I felt a bit sad about how lonely the snowflake is. Can we please give this one a comforting family rather than a distant one?"

"A whole flock of them."

"Are we going to make more animals too?"

The closer they approached the pair, the more cluttered the papers were. Albus stepped over what a drawing of a forest coloured with red rather than green. Tiana flicked her wrist and a path cleared, the papers arranged themselves into neat stacks on one side.

The strange-haired girl, Albus sensed, had noticed their presence. Though for how long, he was unsure.

"I don't really know too many." The girl hummed, before adding a little more loudly, "It's a different story if we have scissors, though."

Her voice turned up, "I mean, what's the harm?"

"I've told you several times and I'll tell you once more." Tiana chided. "You are not allowed scissors."

The girl had turned to them now.

She looked as youthful as she sounded: pale—but not sickly—skin, a somewhat messy array of hair sticking up on one side, like she had not bothered combing since waking up, and her eyes, which was what caught his attention immediately as she faced them, was startlingly silver, like polished metal.

The girl frowned at Tiana.

"What if we say please?" she tried hopefully.

Tiana's finger tapped her crossed arms as she hummed. "Let me think for a second… Ah, no."

Esteem deflated like a loosened balloon, her silver eyes trailed to Tiana's side startled to find Albus. A blush crept to her cheeks and she adjusted her places on the floor as her hand hastily shot up to pat her hair down.

"There's a visitor." She whispered to herself under breath.

"No need to fret." Albus assured her, "I had come here without your knowledge, have I not? There is no need to tidy yourself when I had so rudely barged into your dwellings."

The girl blinked.

"Oh, well- I don't have excuses." She fumbled. " I should have— wait."

He felt a flash of recognition pass through her. She looked him in his face now, staring.

Moving towards the mess of papers on the floor, she snatched up a drawing, knocking over a grey paper dog. Albus caught smears of blue and brown before Ruby pulled it up to her eye level. On the back, a variety of letters and numbers have been scribbled.

She cast her glance at the paper, then at him, back again, at him again—

"Wolfy?" she mused quietly.

Pardon?

Tiana sputtered somewhere beside him.

The girl's face turned into a burning red, hastily pulling the drawing to her chest. As if something very much appealing appeared on his legs, the girl's sights were dead set on his knees.

"Ah!" Agatha pushed herself towards the girl. The paper hat forgotten, falling to the ground. "Wolfy!"

"Wolfy?" Albus inquired.

"Wolfy!" Agatha repeated.

Albus glanced at Tiana who just gave him a shrug. Meanwhile, Agatha had taken to shaking the girl by the shoulders. In turn, the girl seemed to be curling into a little ball with the paper clutched at the center.

"Ruby, Ruby!" she said happily, "it's Wolfy!"

"Who's Wolfy? I don't know any Wolfy. Sounds like a shady person." Ruby feigned. "Oh my Brothers, my-time-has-come."

"Yes, who is this Wolfy?" Albus mused. "Sounds like I should meet him."

Ruby glanced up at him, cheeks positively burning, before she slowly let her knees down and her arms loose, holding out the drawing to him. Tiana hovered beside his arm to peek.

The drawing—it seems— was a portrait drawn in crayon of a rather well-dressed man in an electrifying shade of blue with a head surrounded by tufts of brown lines that Albus assumes is the hair. Below, a few words have been written in the same blue crayon before being crossed out with red, followed by the same set of words now complete in full red writing:

All Bus Percy Wolfy Brain Double Door

There was a short snort that Tiana quickly covered with her hand.

Ruby was fiddling her thumbs, "I drew it off of Agatha's description."

"I see." Albus hummed, looking at the rather broken-looking nose of the man. Dear him, was it that much of a defining feature.

"Do you—" Ruby mumbled. "Do you like it?"

"My compliments to the artist." He handed the drawing back. "Though I must ask, what did Miss Grace say about my coming today?"

Ruby shook her head.

"She didn't say you were coming today—otherwise I would've been ready." She added in a mumble to herself.

Resuming, she explained "She described it this morning, said that a man named, uhh, yeah— that a man was coming to meet me. But she didn't know when."

"Perhaps you can privy me to what business she said this man has with you?"

She looked over the side, replying "No, we didn't really get into th—"

"Yes we did!"

There was a look of honest betrayal on Ruby's face before she flinched. "We didn't, really. You were still sleepy. I think you're imagining things."

"No, I most certainly am not, young lady!" Agatha huffed, chest puff. "I may be aged, and I may be confined in the permanent ward due to my memory, but I am not so senile as to forget what transpired a few hours ago. I can even name all the dishes we have had these past few meals!"

"What did we have for breakfast?"

"Hah! Simple question: it's, erm—" Agatha turned her head to Tiana. "Tiana dearie, it appears I can't recall what was served for breakfast this morning; can you please refresh me?"

"Hot chocolate and French toast."

Agatha swung a wrinkled finger to the girl. "We had French toast and hot chocolate!"

"Like our breakfast, I also remember our conversation." Agatha tapped her chin thoughtfully, "We reckoned he was adopting you."

There was a pause that followed, short-lived by Ruby covering her head with her hands, her arms flattening her ears.

"No, shut up, shut up, shutup, shutupshutup."

Tiana waved her hand.

"They aren't far off."

Ruby poked her head up slightly at her.

"Other option was that he was taking me to an asylum."

An almost bright smile erupted on Tiana's face.

"Truly not far off. Miss Grace, your divinations are as impeccable as always."

Agatha shot her a wink, "I believe that's why I ended up here for."

At their feet, Ruby fully whirled around.

"I'm going to the asylum?!" She asked, eyes wild.

A smirk pulled up Tiana's lips.

"Somewhat, yes."

"'Somewhat'?"

Albus found her looking at him with a pleading expression before she returned to Tiana.

"Is it worse or better?"

"Ah, depends, really." Tiana replied dismissively. "Either way, I guess it's not my job here; why don't you ask Wolfy? That's what he is here for, isn't he?"

Ruby pouted.

Clearing his throat, Albus took a half-step forward. "I suppose this is my cue. My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. But you may call me Sir Wolfy if you prefer."

Ruby shakes her head, "No, no, not Sir Wolfy; Mister Dumbledore, please. Thank you."

Albus nodded, "I was tasked here to meet with you today."

"Why?"

Looking at her carefully, he said "For an evaluation of sorts."

She tilted her head but didn't say another word.

"Well, then…" Albus clapped his hands together. "Best we get on with it, I suppose. Would you fancy discussing over a cup of tea in the tearoom?"

"With sugar?" she asked.

"And honey."

The girl shot up to her feet, dusting the bottom of her pink pajamas. "Are we allowed scissors after?"

Albus looked to the side to see Tiana mouthing 'No' none-too-discreetly.

He turned back to Ruby.

"Unfortunately," An apologetic smile spread on his lips. "that appears to be a 'no'."

"Pfff. Bummer." Her shoulders sagged.

* * *

One flight of stairs and an order of tea later, the pair found themselves sitting across each other on a round wooden table. It had been painted a shade of white and was peeling at the edges. One side, Ruby counted sugar cubes as she dropped them one-by-one into her drink. On the other, Albus—or Dumbledore, as the girl had taken to calling him—sat watching her with a careful gaze.

She truly did look quite strange; she could be mistaken as a metamorphmagus if one did not know better, and Albus did. From her hair to her silver eyes, perhaps having descended from a rather darker strand of Veelas.

But more importantly and curiously, were her memories, or lack thereof.

As she sits there, dropping the fifth sugar cube with a small plop, Dumbledore starts to shift through her memories. They were ordinary enough: a reasonably-sized cabin in the woods, plants (a lot of sunflowers) here and there, a father, a mother, a sister, a dog, a few raccoons loitering, an uncle— memories. Baking cookies, cake, feeding chickens, helping neighbours, bedtime stories, exploring old houses with her sister, walking through the woods; these were all memories many children have. A few bumps on the road here and there but otherwise happy.

That wasn't what was strange, though. No. What was unusual is the holes—the memories that she had pushed to the back of her head, no doubt. Not missing ones disguised by a spell, hidden ones she does not allow in the forefront of her mind. Fearful of something? He doesn't blame her. Being confined along with the rest of the ward because of these memories, tucking it away seems like a reasonable option.

She seems to be doing quite a good job. Some holes seem to have been dug so far down that it was almost suspicious had he not been told of her situation.

Most unfortunate though, that he may have to level those memories back to the surface.

Ruby had taken to happily stirring her drink or liquefied candy when she looked up at him.

"You're sure you're not here to take me to an asylum?"

Dumbledore picked up his cup, "I am positive."

She nodded.

"Oh, okay, okay. Sorry for asking a bunch, just wanted to, well, yeah." She trailed off.

She really was suspicious of him.

He took a sip, "How has the ward been treating you? Are you well?"

"No." She frowned.

Dumbledore raised a brow.

Crossing her arms to her chest, she muttered "They won't let us have scissors."

"If I may ask, why do you insistently try to acquire scissors?" Dumbledore queried.

"For arts and crafts," she explained, a small flush creeping up again "So we can make stuff like puppets and toys for storytelling…"

"You are fond of stories?"

"Well," she looked over the side. "My sister used to read to me every night before bed, stories of heroes and monsters."

Ruby brought the cup to her lips. "Or at least, that's what I remember."

* * *

Author's Note:

And that's a wrap! See you in a couple of days with a new chapter. By then I am hopefully not frowning in schoolwork (who am I kidding, I probably still am.)

Sincerely,

PTH

**Next chapter: The Tearoom**


	3. Chapter Three: The Tearoom

_Author's note: _'Twas a busy week for me but finally here we have the third chapter. Hooray! Can't say much cause in an honesty, I just squeezed this in along with a lot of other stuff to do. But I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

**Chapter three: The Tearoom**

"What is it that you remember?" Albus piqued. The cup of tea was slowly cooling, forgotten as he rested his elbows on the table, fingers interlaced before his chin.

A questioning look settled on her face.

"Of course, I have heard some details." He added. "But I do have to say that I hold a certain amount of interest in it. If you do not mind too much, do you mind if I ask a few questions regarding it?"

The girl set her drink down on the table.

"Do not fear any judgement coming from me, I will not look at you in a negative light for your memories." He assured her.

A feeling waved through her. With it, a memory—barely a flash, gone too quickly too identify; tucked away. But the emotion remained: wariness.

"Sir," she started, "if you don't mind me asking; why did you come here to meet me?"

Albus hummed. He can feel the strands of his beard barely tickle his fingers as he spoke. "For an evaluation of sorts."

"For what though?" she waved her hand. "I don't really see a need for the interview."

"What did Miss Grace say about my arrival?"

Ruby shrugged. "Not much. It was early in the morning. I just woke up— I nearly jumped on Agatha because she had been leaning right over my bed and into my face."

Wrapping her hands around the tea cup again, she continued. "She told me that there will be a man coming— that he was taking me away."

"To an asylum?"

"To a new home." A small smile showed on her lips as she swirled the tea. "So there starts the adoption theory."

She looked up at him once again. "So, yeah. Why are you here for?"

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you immediately." He answered in an apologetic tone. "Not until I—"

"Have looked into my memories and stuff?" Ruby finished for him.

Without even having given an answer, just like that, the barest of memories lying on the surface was pushed back, filed and hidden. Almost as if she knew that he had been browsing through them.

That won't do— that won't do at all.

Albus looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry, Miss Rose. It is unfair for me to ask of you those things while withholding information on my part."

He has a better chance of summoning the memories upwards if she trusts him. And she proves to be safe enough, it will be better for both parties not to have any sense of animosity or insecurity between them.

There was something that passed through her again, another fleeting feeling and an image that stayed long enough for him to ponder for a second about the identity of the grey-haired man within the picture.

And yet, Ruby Rose remains guarded.

It was almost saddening, how untrusting she was.

Then a half-sort-of-resignation draped on her like a blanket weighing on her shoulders.

"I don't remember." She was looking into the leaves in her tea. "I don't remember the last few months before I ended up here."

He arched a brow. "There are no memories implanted for these previous months?."

The girl flinched—albeit, inwardly. Outside she remained impassive, givingave a small head shake.

"Last thing I remembered is that I was with some friends."

There was another girl. Tufts of vibrant orange hair hung down from her head and ended in a curl, almost doll-like. Ruby leaned against her shoulder and another girl—with alarmingly pale complexion and even whiter hair— sat not too far away. There was a spread of metal behind them, a wall. It was cold, very cold.

"Then nothing." She said quietly.

True enough, the memory faded and in its place— well, he couldn't quite say it was nothing, what he had found. There was something but there was nothing defined; a blur of sorts, muffled words here are there. It was almost like an image from a glass ball.

Fear. There was fear somewhere in there, gripping, cold fear—

"Anyways, next thing I know, I was in a forest, a man was helping me up. He was super worried and brought me here."

"Mister Lovegood was rather concerned, wasn't he?" Albus hummed. "Though I do not blame him."

He saw the man's face, his floss-like strands of white hair as he looked down at her, worry clearly etched in his face as he hastily draped his thick yellow coat on her.

Ruby's face looked about the same as her rosy pink pajamas.

"Ye-yeah. But nothing like that happened." She said quickly. "The Healer's checked, so I wasn't uh…"

"Oh my dear, are you alright?" Lovegood ran the tip of his wand over her body. "Do you hurt anywhere? Who did this to you?"

"What?" came Ruby's voice, croaking.

"Don't worry, child." He reached towards her but settled his hands back to his lap. "You're alright now. You're alright…"

She cleared her throat and tucked the memory of being found completely bare in the woods away, but the embarrassment still lingered like a rather persistent hex.

"But yeah, I was fine." Ruby assured. "I was just a little cold."

Opting to smile kindly instead of letting the chuckle that building bubble out his throat, he leaned back on his chair and plucked the teacup up to his lips.

"Who were these friends of yours that you were with?"

Fondness. Fear. Happiness. Sadness. Comfort. Familiarity. Longing. Then they were gone.

Ruby shrugged. "You know, friends."

"I see." He hummed. "Are you particularly close with any of them?"

"I care a lot about all of them. We've been through a lot together and—" The way she said it was almost shaky. "But I guess I am rather close to few of them more than the rest."

A woman with a beautiful array of voluminous gold-blond curls and heated lilac eyes stared back at him, a confident smile gracing her lips. Then a returns the girl with the silky white hair—looking like winter if the season existed as a person. After that follows a black-haired woman withhite amber eyes that are almost cat-like. Funnily, the bow of the ribbon above her head seems like furry black ears.

They were? He thought in surprise.

Ah, no. It was a ribbon on top of her head, as Ruby seems to recall. Seems like the girl had mused herself that her friend was cat-like as well. She was quite silly now, wasn't she?

There was a sort of joy as they flashed, followed quickly and heavily by longing— like powerful waves crashing against the paved stone walls.

Yet still, she showed none of it. And soon, like she had this entire conversation, she calmed the waters, vanished the memory and the feelings with it this time.

But as suddenly as the feeling disappeared they were back on the surface again, with a curious sense of hope:

"Do you think—"Her voice was steady, interested, like a child asking a parent about something they can't quite grasp, though he can feel desperation radiating off of her, as if he would be revealing her very fate with his answer. "Do you think that they are out there?"

"That they are," A small jab shot through her as she continued. "That they are real somehow, somewhere."

A split-second pause passed, feeling like an eternity as Albus hummed thoughtfully.

"I cannot say for certain," he answered sadly. "And I do not wish to give you false hope."

Ruby sat quietly, looking into her cup, like a Seer seeking knowledge from the future.

"But there is a chance." He explained. "Most of the time, fake memories implanted have a strong basis on the original lives of the person, they do not stray too far from the norm, lest the person becomes suspicious."

A snort came up and she didn't bother to cover up as she mixed the now-cold tea. "Strong basis. I guess whoever did this was trying to be funny, huh?"

Truly enough. Albus agrees. In his years of life, modified memories are often not easy to catch. They were disguised as regular ones, insignificant, nothing that was too out-of-character for the person to have experienced. Too ordinary, sometimes. And he never encountered anybody who had all of their memories removed and had a whole set replace them

But Ruby Rose's case— her case was different. It was almost as if the culprit wanted the whole world to know that the girl had known something but not anymore. It is now hidden deep within the confines of her mind, under the illusion of a forged scene. Or perhaps she had clashed with someone and unfortunately for her, this someone had gotten rather physical or mental, for that matter.

Less funny was the fact that Ruby seems to believe them, Albus realized. Those memories in her head. They truly were peculiar, if what he heard was anything to go by.

"Perhaps." He agreed. "Can you recall any reason at all or suspicion as to why someone had done so to you?"

Shaking her head, she replied "No. I can't remember anything other than the…implanted stuff."

Albus set his elbows on the tables once more, head resting on weaved fingers.

"Do you believe them?" he asked in a light tone. "The memories."

Yes, he heard from her.

"Well," Ruby tugged at the hem of her sleeves. "everything I thought I knew all life had just suddenly been disproved— na-da, not real anymore."

There was a thick layer of sadness over her along with a grip of fear, and a slightest touch of relief?

"I mean, I don't even know who I am," she laughed an airy sound, "These memories may be fake, but they are all I have."

"Tell me about her." Albus said casually. "This invented person of yours."

"That is what you came here for, isn't it?" Muttering, she finished the last of her drink and set it down. Images and memories rose back up, like a gallery to select from— though there are some pictures that were missing. "What did you want to know?"

"Well," With a flick of his finger, the white ceramic teapot between them steamed before rising in the air and refilling their cups. "Well, for one, who is she exactly? Where was she born? What does she like to do?"

"Ruby Rose." She answered. "Her name is Ruby Rose. She hails from Patch, an island just off the coast of Vale. Vale is a kingdom, by the way. One of the four kingdoms of Remnant."

With just four short sentences, he found he had a lot more questions, even the memories that he can see left him pondering without the satisfaction of the explanation.

"Kingdoms?" he queried.

An image of a desolate street came into her mind, shops were lined along the sides—the lights within were dimming as the workers closed up for the night. High above, the moon hung in place; it was too large to be the real moon, hanging whole and white in the sky.

"Kingdoms." She shrugged. Tiana flashed in her mind. She had an incredulous look on her face. "Y'know, like big cities."

"And there are only four of them?" he asked. "I am assuming this Remnant is a whole world?"

The girl nodded. "They used to be small communities, settled into a good spot. Eventually they grew big enough, now they're a kingdom."

"And there are only four?" Albus raised his brow.

"Well, four big ones. There are a few villages and smaller cities scattered around. It's just the kingdoms that are notable since they are kind of like the capital managing all the other places."

"So each is like a nation?"

The girl shrugged. "I guess?"

"What qualifies as a good spot for them to settle on?"

"Places with natural protection, like mountains or shallow waters, extreme cold, extreme warmth. Stuff like that."

He straightened his back. "Protection from predators?"

An image showed up, one that may stay with him for a while.

The girl looked to one side.

"Well…"

* * *

"So?"

Albus hummed. He settled himself down a creaky plush blue chair before a splintering wooden desk.

"How did it go?" Tiana made her way across the office, a steaming mug in her hand. She sat herself on top of the desk, looking him over. "Is she liable?"

Albus crossed one leg over the other, "Well, her memories are most certainly interesting to look over."

Tiana scoffed, the barest of a smirk grazing her lips. "Strange, aren't they? What do you reckon of it?"

"Well, I can most certainly assure you, in all my years of life I have never encountered wizards using dust to power muggle-like items."

"What of the shattered moon and the creatures of destruction that run rampant?"

"As far as I remember, the only shattered moon I've seen is when one of our professors dropped another professor's—divination one— favourite moon plate." Albus said. "As for the creatures of destruction, I find that we encounter and are very much one of them."

Tiana waved her free hand dismissively, "Humans."

She took a sip and looked down over to him, "Did you notice that the some people in there are based off of people from fairytales?"

He quirked a brow, "Indeed?"

Tiana adjusted herself to face him.

"We didn't realize it at first—wait actually—" she paused, "we didn't realize it at all until Ruby pointed out to us that some characters from the book— the BrothersBrother's Grimm, there's a copy in a common area— remind her of some people."

She continued. "Weiss Schnee, Snow White. A scarecrow, a tinman, a goodwitch, for Merlin's sake. And the school was run by the wizard named Ozpin: Oz. There is also Joan of Arc."

Tilting the mug to her lips, Tiana took a sip. "In a way, it almost looks like an elaborate prank."

"Well," Albus said, thoughtfully, "the caster is most definitely a skilled user of the charms."

Tiana set the mug down next to her on the desk, frowning "You couldn't find anything?"

Albus' expression matched hers, "Unfortunately."

Her brows furrowed, "Nothing? No previous memories, a clue or anything?"

"No. Not a thing." Expression serious, he explained: "Her memories— as ridiculous as they are— are, by far, the most well-crafted ones I had encountered. I cannot emphasize it enough, it's as if those are her true memories."

A silence fell over the empty office, disrupted only by a rather loud tick. The large grandfather cloth displayed at the corner stood stagnant, with an arrow with the name Jared Pomfrey clicked into place, pointing at a spot labelled "Reception Area".

"There had still been no claims to her." She laid her hands on either side, "Ministry looked into their files, missing people and the whatnot. They had finished going through records: witches, wizards, muggleborns—though to be honest, she does not look like a muggleborn— nothing came up. The reply had come from America as well. Blank."

"Well, you know the story" She picked her mug up once more, "unidentified, confounded but magical and ordinary enough. She is confused but other than that there is no real reason for her to be confined here. What do you reckon?"

Albus mused. "I do not think she is dangerous. Though there are some rather worrying details I have encountered."

"Which one?"

"I presume you know of the so-called Creatures of Grimm?"

"Of course."

"And I presume you know of the Huntsman and Huntresses."

Tiana scowled. "None of those are real. Albus, I haven't seen her memories as you have—Merlin knows I am no Legilimens—but I know for a fact that she is a good person."

The now-half-empty mug rested on her lap, "She may only have fake memories of who she is but no matter how good they are made, they can never change who a person truly is. Goodness, if it were that simple then we wouldn't have so many problems in the world."

Swinging her finger at the ceiling she muttered, "Swish, flick! I dub you a good person."

Lowering her glance back to him, she said, "But she is a good person. I know it, Albus."

Not a beat passed before he responded.

"I think so as well. " Albus replied, "Often I find that one does not need to leaf through their memories— who they are, as they are is often enough to tell, no matter how kindly or dastardly they are at the time."

"Then what is the issue then?"

He paused. "I am merely concerned if she has actual skill in the area of fighting. If she does, it might be telling to who she had been in the past."

"You don't reckon tha—" Tiana blinked. "You are afraid she had been involved in something rather shady?"

"I believe it is best to exercise caution." Albus elaborated. "Having one's memories completely wiped and replaced by entirely fake ones is one factor that may be telling. However having the skill to act defensively and offensively is another."

"I do not believe she is a bad person." Oddly, he can feel the spot where the lemon sherbet used to be, even though his pocket is completely flat all the time." But that does not clear her from being involved in questionable business."

"So you're saying that we should keep a close eye on her?"

"I am saying that I will be keeping a close watch on her."

There had been a sort of tension that had built up these past few seconds, one that he did not realize had piled until it dissipated as Tiana's shoulders dropped.

"Then that means that she will be..."

"I reckon from what I have gathered: there is no reason for her not to attend Hogwarts and learn to rejoin society."

One did not need to be a Legilimens to know that relief washed over Tiana— that wasn't hard to deduce on his part seeing as her Occlumency is as impenetrable as ever.

"She is allowed to go to Hogwarts." She said more to herself than to him. A rare and genuine smile graced her lips.

Though he had not asked for an explanation, she did anyways. "I apologize, I am just ecstatic that she can go."

Tiana looked at the shut office door, just beyond was the hallway leading to the ward again. "It's not right for her to be here. She's too young to remain confined here. She should be outside making friends, lounging under the sun and enjoying her life ahead of her. I mean, granted, the world outside is a tad of a mess as of late, it's still better for her."

"We will take care of her at Hogwarts."

"I know you would, it took well-enough care of me all those years ago. Sometimes I wish I could return to merely worrying about homework and grades."

"Perhaps she will worry about homework too." He said with mirth.

"Oh" she said in a warning tone, "that little rascal better worry about her grades. If she somehow throws away her opportunity to get a decent job, I will permanently confine her here for being not right in the thinker."

Albus chuckled, "Fret not, Tiana, I will provide her with ample enough guidance, but if she proves to have a penchant for mischief and disregard for grades, then there is little I can do."

"Don't keep too close an eye on her though, kid needs to make friends not have them usher away because good old professor Dumbledore is constantly hovering over her shoulder." She fell quiet for a second. "Dear Peeves, I hope she doesn't have a hard time making friends. She has a bit of a struggle with new people, you see— oh, you probably have seen."

"That I did." He mused, then added in a curious tone "Though, it is a tad strange how well she can hide her memories if she chose."

Tiana quirked a brow, "She hid her memories?"

"Well, she said it is because she does not want me to think that she is 'completely insane'" he quoted. "Quite perceptive too— she told me that she can't help but feel like I am reading her mind."

"She did?" Tiana almost looked proud. "What did you tell her?"

"She just said in a small tangent while talking about her school life, it was more of a short comment on her part and she did not ask."

"You did not tell her then?"

"I did not have the opportunity to." he said, "And I think it might create a bit of a challenge to view her mind if she is wary."

"Well, have you told her that she will be attending Hogwarts?" she asked.

Albus smiled, "Not yet, either. I'm afraid I have to report back to the headmaster beforehand."

Tiana nodded, "I'll have to handle her files to be submitted to the ministry then."

"Will you be telling her?"

"No, she has to wait for the letter like all of us. There is a thrill to it, especially if you do not know what is inside— I have to tell Agatha not to blubber if she divines anything."

"Ah, has Miss Grace been doing well?" Albus remembered.

Waving her hand dismissively before picking up her coffee, she answered, "She has been doing as she had always been. Though she has been a lot happier and enthusiastic, not to mention more bloody mischievous, since Ruby had arrived."

"Are they a troublesome bunch to watch?"

"They are sometimes hard to keep track of. One moment they're here and the next they're off doing who knows what."

"Aren't they restricted fromnot allowed to leavinge the ward?"

"They aren't. Though we have found Ruby wandering around if she got bored enough. Needless to say, if one of them has been in clear sight for too long then the other is probably doing something behind our backs. We have found out the hard way."

Her head shot up to him, "You didn't give her scissors, did you?"

A mischievous grin made its way to his face, "I don't recall giving her scissors, no."

"But I do believe I taught her a little charm."

* * *

Magic.

Performing feats accomplished by dust but without it, feats done with Semblances without Aura, versatile and seemingly limitless.

Magic, a thing of the old world: the World of the Brothers. A thing that can only be wielded only by six individuals at a time, remnants of a forgotten past.

Ruby already had acquainted herself to five of them, hadn't she? Though that count is pretty much void now.

The number of Healers milling about in their lime green robes using their gifts to heal people add up to more than six. The number of patients sitting in the reception and on the beds add up to more than six. The number of people outside using magic casually and freely add up to more than six.

And Ruby placed along with the count certainly adds up to more than six.

She couldn't believe it at first. It was absolutely mental. But then she beckoned her hand and a book came flying out of the shelf and into her palm.

Accio, the Healer had said one time, summoning a clipboard.

Accio, Ruby had tested, reaching out to the copy of Brother's Grimm.

And so it began.

Reparo, Tiana had said to the broken ink bottle.

Reparo, Ruby told the broken leg of her bed.

Episkey, Jared said, pointing a stick that he called a 'wand' to the small cut on Agatha's hand that she got from trying to pick up a piece of the broken bottle.

Episkey, Ruby muttered to the small bruise the newspaper boy got when Ruby had startled him during one of the times that she snuck out of the ward. He had stumbled and hit one of those old chairs. The bruise healed right up.

She can remember the perplexed look on the kids face, asking her how she can do magic without a wand. She remembers Agatha's explanation:

"You don't need a wand to do magic." She commented, lying flat on her back on the rug of the common area. "People in Africa didn't need to, it's more of a Western practice. Wands make it more accurate and directed. Though it is quite hard to master doing magic without it if you have been doing it all your life."

But Ruby hasn't been doing it all her life.

She had only been doing it for a few weeks.

Or so she remembers.

And today she learned a new charm.

Pulling the thick green curtains around her bed closed, she was covered in darkness. Ruby felt towards her pillow, propped it up against the metal bars of the headboard before leaning back to it.

She shut her eyes.

Somewhere out there, though they may not be exactly as she can recall, her friends may be alive and real. They exist.

But then again, almost nothing else in her memories do, so why should she pin her hope on this one?

Hope.

She had always tried her best to hold on to it, hadn't she?

She held on when she was a child that could barely pull the trigger of a pistol.

She held onto it when she spent night after night training.

She held on to it when Beacon was attacked, when she ran for Penny, when she ran for Pyrrha.

The reason she left home, the reason she travelled across Anima, to Mistral— the reason they kept on their path to Argus, then soon to Atlas was because they kept their hope. That somehow, someway, they will be able to defeat Salem or at least stop more people from falling victim to her.

But what about now?

She's holding on to the hope that her friends were real out there. She held onto the hope that the world she remembers exists.

It's funny, how much that contradicts what she said she wishes; sitting here longing for that world of chaos. She wants to go back as soon as possible to help, to save people, to do what she can. Ruby wants for it to be real, and she wants to go back.

But wasn't it better if it turns out none of it was real though?

A jab shot through her.

It would mean that those people, Jaune, Nora, Ren, Blake, Weiss, Yang, Marrow, Harriet— none of them had existed. But that also meant none of them have suffered, right? All those people lost at Beacon, people from the villages that have perished, all the pointless death and pain would have never have happened.

Isn't that a wonderful thing? That they aren't fighting against a being that can never be killed, in a fight that may never end.

Isn't that what life is about though? Another part of her reasoned.

Suffering, sadness along with joy and happiness. Was it better to have lived a life that may be sprinkled with hardships and some pleasure rather than never lived at all? Isn't that why humans thrive? Keep on living not just for the sake of living but because they have something to look forward to, fearing death as the end of those things.

Would it be better if Remnant had existed?

Ruby doesn't know, but what she does know is what she wants, though she is aware that her reason is selfish. She means, who wouldn't want the world they have known all their life to be real? No matter how horrible the place was sounding.

She wonders if there was a semblance of a chance that it was real.

Ruby opened her eyes. There was a faint green glow about the little dark confined space. Her eyes had adjusted well enough that she could see the box of tissue papers that she had tossed in. It sat right by her feet. Using her heel, she pulled it slowly to her side.

Today, she learned a new charm.

The empty clear wrapper of the lemon sherbet fell out of her pajama pockets as she pulled a small scrap of orange crafting paper out. There were a few slices on it, as if someone had run a blade on top.

Holding it up with one hand, she placed the tip of her finger on the upper corner of the sheet.

"Snip this." She whispered.

She can feel it: a buzzing of sorts or a hum, but not really. It was a feeling on itself, right at the tip of her pointing finger. It dragged along as she pulled her index to the edge of the paper, behind it a split trailed— as if she was slicing it with a cutter.

The corner fell free, spinning in the air before landing on her lap.

She set the paper down to her side and pulled the tissues closer to her.

Ruby pulled the pale pink sleeves of pajama up and surveyed her arm. It was soft though her muscles were toned, she thought as she ran her fingers through them thoughtfully. They were exactly as they were in her memories. Years of combat had shaped them, according to what she can remember. She wonders if that is still true in this world—that she had trained for battle.

Her arm tiled sideways as her finger stopped over the top.

She ponders if any bit of what she knows are her experiences are true.

"Snip this." She said quietly.

A sharp jolt of pain shot through her arm. It stung as she dragged her finger across. There was a sticky feeling as blood started to flow down.

She retracted her finger, the humming feeling vanished.

She stared at her arm, at the stream of blood travelling down. Ruby pulled a piece of tissue paper out and caught the mess, but her focus did not leave the cut. It wasn't deep, perhaps a bit less than quarter of an inch, and about the length of a toothpick across—

She pulled on a feeling then, as she always had. Like the buzzing feeling at the tip of her finger earlier, it was hard to describe. But it felt natural, second nature to use it.

A faint red glow that travelled in ripples covered her arm.

As if a seamstress was working with an invisible thread, her arm was stitching itself back together; needle through and pull. As quickly as she had gotten the cut, it closed.

Ruby wiped her arm down with tissue, before raising it before her eyes.

What was it again?

"Lumos."

A small beam of light erupted from her finger that she directed to where the slide had been.

There was nothing. Not a trace of a wound on her arm.

She looked back at the tissue paper to see if it had even happened—the soiled red color gave her her answer.

Hairs stood on end at the back of her neck. Someone was coming, she could feel it. It was like an instinct that alerted her. She doesn't know what it is but her "common sense" answers 'Aura'.

She crumpled the tissue and stuffed it back into the box, hoping that she will remember to flush it down the toilet tomorrow. The air within the pillow pushed out when she threw herself back while hastily pulling the previously forgotten scrap of orange paper to herself again.

"Ruby?" came Tiana's voice from the other side of the curtain.

"Yeah?" she replied, lightly.

"Are you alright in there?"

"Um, yes."

"May I open the curtains?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure!"

The curtains slid open with a swish. Ruby squinted when bright light let itself inside, coming from that floating mini-sun they have in the middle of the room.

"Did you need anything?" Ruby asked.

"No, no, I just wanted to know if your little conversation went well."

"Oh." Ruby started. "It went well, I guess. He was super nice."

Feels a bit secretive though.

"I see, glad to hear." Tiana replied. "I just wanted to see if you were alright."

Her arm suddenly felt very cold with the sleeve pulled up. She placed both hands to her sides, hiding the free arm, and leaned back.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"I hear he taught you a new charm?"

Ruby nodded, raising the small scrap of orange paper. "Snippy."

"Oh, good for your story-telling then."

"Yeah." Ruby agreed before hastily adding. "We don't have to be stuck with just origami anymore! Do we have glue?"

Tiana tapped her hand on her chin. "Oh, I am not sure. But I think we have a charm for that."

"Really?"

"Oh, I don't know, you can find out for yourself."

Ruby stuck her tongue out.

"Well, I am glad you enjoyed it."

Ruby smiled.

"I guess I should leave you to rest now, it's not every day you have to talk to a new face. Especially interviews, Merlin, those are tiring."

"Yeah," she agreed. "He was easy to talk to though."

"A little too easy sometimes, honestly." Tiana sighed.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not necessarily."

Tiana took a step back from her bed. "But do get some rest. I reckon you're going to have quite the crafting session later, won't you?"

"Yep!" Ruby said a little too joyfully.

"Well, then." Her hands rested on the curtains. "Don't forget: nox!"

Swish and the curtains fell closed and Ruby was back a bit of darkness— except for the bit on the curtains that a beam of light was striking.

The stream was then directed to the ceiling as she pointed her finger up.

"Nox."

Everything faded to black.

* * *

_Author's note: Dun, dun dun!_ Guess our Ruby is going to Hogwarts! (maybe). They grow up so fast. One moment they're being granted official huntsman IDs, next they're being ordered to be arrested, and before you know it they're going to school! So fast.

Also, I have read your reviews and comments (just now, actually. These are busy times). And I really appreciate them. I am grateful for constructive critisism, it gives me stuff to keep in mind and gives me a good view outside of what I can see. I would go more in depth response, but I just read it now so maybe next chapter! I hope with them, I'll learn more and be able to make a good and enjoyable story to read.

Thanks as always!

Sincerely,

PTH

**_Coming up!_ Chapter 4: A Hooter and a Letter**


	4. Chapter Four: A Hooter and a Letter

_Author's Note: _I am back. After these past months, I wasn't entirely sure if I was going to pick up this story anymore. But I guess I decided to give it a shot and here is the next chapter. It is still a bit wonky, but it is a start. Also, I've edited the previous chapters. Nothing too major, just some spelling and grammar corrections here and there along with some rephrasing to help it read better.

Now without further ado...

* * *

**Chapter 4: A Hooter and a Letter**

"That is truly extraordinary."

The castle was in a state of complete silence, a state only accomplished in the midst of Summer break. Every footfall and breath seemed to bound down the end of the hall like the pattering rabbits. Armando Dippet walked in a steady stride with one of his most trusted professors.

"It was certainly one of the stranger cases out there." Albus replied.

Dippet hummed a thoughtful sound. "And you are sure there were absolutely no records of her written down?"

"None written down." Looking outside, he can see a few merpeople barely breaching the surface of the lake.

"No one her age was jotted down by the Quill of Acceptance?" Dippet voice raised a notch.

"With her modified memories, we could assume that the name she can recall isn't her real one. The Ministry had looked into all magical folk who were listed to have been born that year."

"And?"

"There were a few names listed that were homeschooled, though they have yet to identify which one belonged to her."

"Were any of these names to be worried about?" They rounded a corner.

"None that I know of."

"You know that I hold the safety of the school and the students at the utmost priority."

"Of course."

"I would not let any potentially dangerous be harboured on these grounds." he said with authority. "And these are indeed dark times. Extremist with old fashioned ways gatekeeping rights to practice using such rash means. I would see this school shut down sooner than put the safety of its people at stake."

Dippet stopped in his tracks and turned to face Albus. "However, I would also not deny a child an opportunity to live a good life."

"Albus, I would trust you with my life and this school. If you think that Hogwarts should accept this young girl, strange as she may be, I would have no qualms about it. That said, what course of action do you think we should take?"

Albus stood straight. "She is a good child, there is no denying the fact, and I do not think she poses any security risk to the school."

"Very well then."

* * *

"Good morning, Ruby!"

"Good morning to you too!"

"How are you on this pleasant day, young lady?"

"I'm great!"

"Ah, Ruby! Nice to see you again. Had a goodnight's rest?"

_Was it her birthday today?_

"As good as I can get."

It was a fine Monday morning and Ruby Rose, with a mug of hot chocolate in hand, had taken a stroll through the hallways; though rather than the cold white tiles of the hospital floor, it's as if she trotted on a red carpet. Every person she had run into, flashed her a warm smile, a kind greeting. When she poked her head down at the reception area, Carol had beckoned her to come near. It was apparent that Carol must be on her way; she was donning a flowery blue dress with a purse under her arm. She should have been done an hour ago, but before Ruby could ask why she was still around, Carol gave her a wet kiss on the cheek.

"I'm so happy for you." she pressed a small ribboned box into Ruby's hands.

"Uh. Thanks?" Ruby started. "Did-did something happen?"

"Oh, dear. Something _magical_ did." Tapping her crown, a hat popped into view. Carol pushed it firmly down her head, then left without another word despite Ruby's protests.

_What on Remnant is going on?_

Quickly, she went to the staff's breakroom, where she was greeted by more enthusiastic and congratulatory words. Though like how Ruby and her father eagerly waited for Yang to see her new motorcycle they chose out for her, none said a peep.

_Maybe they found something? _She thought hopefully. _Something about her?_

If there was anyone who may be able to tell her what was going on (or at least make a vivid but accurate guess), it was Agatha. As she made her way back up the stairs, she opened the small present Carol gave her. Within, tube-like biscuits rattled with every step she took. Inspecting the strange snack, it had smelled rather salty and savory— chewy as well, she found when she popped one in her mouth. It wasn't her cup of tea, but it was a gift so she knows she would have to finish the box and thank Carol later.

Jared, who had been sitting behind the desk, gave her a proud smile when she entered the Janus Thickey Ward.

"Lovely walk?" he queried.

"Everybody is acting weird." Ruby said, popping another snack into her mouth.

Jared quirked a brow. "Were they now?"

"Yes, they were!" she said through her chewing. "You are too!"

Jared ignored her and instead asked "What have you got here, Ruby?"

She shook the small box. "Just a box of snacks Carol gave me. Do you want some?"

"Do they taste good?"

". . . Yeah."

He looked amused.

"I think, I'll pass."

"They really do taste good!" Ruby defended. Anything that comes from a cute little pink box and in small portions probably cost a fortune, so they have to taste good even if she thinks otherwise.

"I'm sure they do. I think you'll find a friend waiting who would like them very much."

Dang it. This guy was no help.

"I'm going to go find Agatha."

Turning away from him, he piped up: "I wouldn't suggest it. The sleeping potion she took last night was very potent. I doubt she would be awake."

Ruby groaned and changed her path, going back to her own bed.

Though she could've sworn she left her drapes open, they were drawn when she returned. A pink piece of paper that she recognized as a Visitor's Slip was sticking on the cloth. It had been turned over with a note scribbled on.:

_Get inside and shut the curtains immediately._

_-Tiana_

Plucking the slip off (it stuck like a magnet on a refrigerator) she flipped it over to see that it was used by someone called Garrett Holland visiting Thomas Williams yesterday. She tossed it into the drawer of the nightstand along with the box of snacks.

Throwing the drapes open, Ruby planned on wasting no time, but still she froze for a second when two bright yellow eyes stared at her. The first thing that came into her mind was a cat, before seeing its feathery body. There was a bird. A bird on her bed. What do you call them? _Hoot hoot? _A hooter. She quickly hauled herself inside, sliding the curtains shut. Rather than being coated in darkness, the little area was about as bright as it is outside, surprising Ruby. _Magic_, she mused.

The owl seemed to be curious about what she was doing, hopping over, head tilted to look at her. An envelope was held tightly between his beak, a glossy red seal holding it shut.

Ruby looked over the fluffy fellow.

'_Owl's are mainly used to deliver mail 'round these parts. But with where we are, it draws too many eyes to the building. Hard for injured wizards to enter a building unnoticed when a curious muggle child follows a bird through the streets.' Jared once told as an elf sorts through mail that came in a woolen sack. _They used to distribute the mail during breakfast, calling each person by name to collect, but then there were concerns regarding people who eagerly anticipate letters that never arrive (perhaps from some relative left in a war-torn country or even a short greeting from family members on holidays). Because of this, the staff have opted to discreetly leave the mail inside the top drawers of the patient's bedside table. That's how it had been for a year now.

With a shaky hand, she reached towards the owl, who seemed to sense her wariness. Gently, he set it on her palm where she rubbed her thumb over the coarse parchment— it was real. Flipping it over, it read:

_MS. RUBY ROSE  
Bed 21, Janus Thickey Ward,  
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries,  
London,_

This was it. A letter for her and her specifically. But what kind of special letter has to be delivered directly by an owl to her? Who could be sending an important message to her?

_More like _hoot _could be sending a message, amirite? Guys? _Her sister's voice echoed in her head. Ruby tensed up. Before her mind could go any further she made to open the envelope.

The seal felt smooth under her touch. Upon inspection, it was an '_H' _surrounded by four creatures that were too small for her to identify. But she was sure one was a snake (or a curly fry). Inside were two sheets folded together. Taking one she found what seemed like someone's reading list. Was this a task she was supposed to do? An errand? Moving on to the other sheet, it fell together.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

It was written under a logo similar to the seal. Followed by the name of the headmaster: someone called Armadillo Dippet.

_Dear Ms. Rose,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,  
Albus Dumbledore_

Disappointment washed over Ruby, before she caught herself. This was exciting news, she echoed. School was a good thing, wasn't it? She would learn all sorts of new things about the world. This was something to celebrate!

A smile pulled on her as she started to turn, prepared to scamper off to Agatha, sleeping potion forgotten. She would be super stoked to hear about this. A letter, a letter for Ruby to go to school— suddenly her chest felt tight and her breath hitched. Doubling over, she clutched the letter to her chest. A strained and soundless sob shook her body.

It must have been a short but all-the-while it felt dreadful, before she cleared her mind and steadied her breathing. The owl hovered over her curled up on the bed. Perhaps he was concerned or just curious. Though she was sure that if the owl could voice out his questions, she wouldn't be able to answer them.

"Sorry, bud." she reached towards him, patting his ruffled feathers down. "Just got a little choked up. You brought _real_ good news."

Wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her nightgown, she sat up. She hadn't noticed before but a cage with another pink slip was set at the end of the bed. Beside it sat a package wrapped in parchment along with another envelope. Ruby shuffled over and read the slip.

_Once you are done, place Grey back in his cage and cover him with the sheet I left inside the cage. Don't let the other patients see him. You know how they get seeing others receive mail. _

_Don't forget to feed him some treats, he expects to be rewarded._

_-Tiana_

She guessed that's how Grey got here.

"Hoot. Hoot"

Ruby turned to the faded-looking creature. "Hoot hoot to you too. Looks like I'll have to sneak you out, you lil' infiltrator."

"Hoot, hoot."

"Are you hungry? What about bread?"

"Hoot."

"Hoot."

"Don't worry I'll sneak you out. Just lemme' look at these first." Ruby picked up the package and immediately knew it was a book in there; years of guessing Birthday gifts say so.

There was a shuffling sound and Ruby froze. She knows that sound. That was normally the sound of someone intruding in her bed, but the lack of movement behind her says otherwise. Her head whipped around to find the curtains still slightly swaying, and Grey was nowhere to be seen.

"Grey!" she exclaimed, bounding straight out of the bed and through the drapes.

There he was, pecking the box of snacks in her opened drawer. He must've realized that she was coming for him because the moment they locked eyes, he locked his claws unto the box and flew away, straight into Meredith's bed next to hers.

If there was someone who had been waiting for a letter for a long time, it was Meredith— the snoopy, snitching Meredith who was yet to hear from her husband who was left in France. Some would taunt her that perhaps he opted to remain there on purpose to avoid spending anothing waking moment with her. Meredith would call them all something profane, but oddly she would never dispute it.

Ruby guessed being woken up by an owl in the morning wasn't her ideal start of the day. She was prepared to crash in there to retrieve Grey—better that she woke up annoyed with Ruby rather than annoyed _and_ reminded of her lack of mail—but then she paused.

It was quiet.

Gently, she parted the heavy green curtains. The first thing that came into view was feet, and beyond them the box was toppled, the contents spilled. Grey seemed to be pretty happy picking the snacks up and gobbling them up _but not for long._

As quickly and quietly as Ruby can, she jumped over the bed and Meredith, grabbing a very started owl who didn't have a chance to fly away. With nothing more than a rustle, she burst through the other end of the bed and rolled to her feet, curling over Grey to shield him from stray eyes. Though he protested, he stuffed him under her nightgown and hustled back to her own bed where he was immediately tossed into the cage.

Ruby pulled her nightgown and viewed her chest. If she didn't have Aura she would've gotten cut up—

She stopped that train of thought and went to look at the owl who was now very loudly protesting his complaints. It was times like this that she was glad that she was allowed to have the drapes with a silencing charm.

"Shhh." Ruby chided, "You nearly got me in trouble!"

Though he doesn't seem to care, he kept screeching like a very dissatisfied customer complaining to the manager.

"Please be quiet. Please. So help me— SHUT IT!"

And for a second, he did. Then he decided that he doesn't care.

Was it possible to be expelled from a Hospital Ward? Because if it was, this offence might just get her booted.

"Alright, alright." She said over his noises. "I'll get you the food. Just please be quiet. I can't sneak you out if you keep screeching."

It seems he could understand human language (well, if they can read and deliver messages they probably could), because he immediately quieted down. Ruby took this chance to slip away back to Meredith's tent.

Her streak of being undetected, however, was short-lived as just when Ruby was collecting the last few bits of snack, Meredith moved her feet straight into Ruby's hands. Perhaps she has always been aware of her feet when she sleeps because the moment Ruby touched her cold feet, her eyes snapped open, and she was screaming bloody murder.

Ruby scooped up the last of it without an ounce of being careful anymore and made a beeline back to her bed. The edges of the cage's doorway got bent when she crammed the box in there. Grey had hopped down to merrily munch as Ruby covered the cage with a sheet and dashed straight to the Agatha's bed. Meredith, as she had expected, made her way to the doors, yelling for Jared to come and "Get this no-good scoundrel for ruining her feet."

Agatha, still heavily under a sleep potion, didn't flinch when Ruby set the cage by her feet. She could just hope that Agatha could divine the situation well enough when she wakes up. Better yet, not wake up until Ruby gets Grey out of here.

Making her way to the reception of the ward, she was prepared for a good yelling with an amused Jared feigning disappointment to place a punishment on her, as he did every week when Meredith comes with a new complaint.

But when Ruby got near, there were no explosion complaints about how the state of the ward and its inhabitants are unacceptable. For a brief second, she wondered whether her luck had turned and Meredith decided it was too early for this. Then she got a good look at the Reception Area: Meredith still fuming was marching over the abandoned desk and leaning herself over it.

"Where the bloody hell is that Pomfrey?!"

"He left an hour ago." William, who had been sitting on his bed, watched the scene. He had grown used to seeing this banter at least once a week.

"_Left?!"_ Meredith repeated, outraged. "That is preposterous! They cannot leave! They aren't allowed their patients alone! Who is here then?"

"Nobody." William propped his furred feet up and rested his head on his knees. "Jared was supposed to keep watch of us before the regular wards. Nobody came up after we left."

"That little— fine! If we have so little regard for rules over here, why don't I just walk right out!" Meredith screeched. "They don't really care if some of their precious patients wander openly in the hospital if they don't leave anyone to watch us after all."

She stomped haughtily over the wooden double doors.

"I don't think you should—" Ruby started, though it fell on deaf ears as Meredith gave the door a strong pull.

It didn't budge.

"Well, why don't you look at that. Locked." William mused. "Are you going to write an angry complaint now about that?"

Locked? The door was never locked.

"Do you mind if I try that?" Ruby piped.

"Oh, _of course_." Meredith said dryly. "It should somehow unlock itself if you gave it a shot— it's locked, you idiot. It's not going to change."

"It was just a suggestion."

"A dim one!" Meredith snapped.

Biting back her retaliation, Ruby looked over at William instead, who was lazily dusting clumps of fur off his bed.

"What happened? Was something wrong?" she asked worried.

William had stood up now pulling at loose hair from the grey tail that poked out behind him. "Onslaught of patients apparently. I heard an elf pop in here to call him downstairs. They needed more medics."

"An accident?"

"Perhaps." he started, "it would take one hell of an accident to take up the entire staff. If we're putting any money on it, I'd say it's Grindelwald."

Meredith paled. "You kid. Another one so soon?"

"Well, it's not like I'm the one planning out his invasions." he mused. "But if we had received an injured batch in the dead of the day, I reckon these attacks must be pretty close. Best be prepared, don't you think?"

"What does that mean?"

"It means you never know when we are going to have to be evacuated." William shrugged. "You would know, weren't you a runaway from France?"

Without another word, Meredith turned tail and scampered back to her back—no doubt to double check essential belongings are in the suitcase under her bed.

Once she was gone, Ruby stepped towards the door and sure enough, it was locked.

"You're welcome." William said, pulling a wand out of his sleeves. With a flick, the door clicked and swung open easily. "And congratulations by the way."

"Huh?"

"For getting accepted into Hogwarts." he clarified. "Today would be better spent celebrating rather than getting yelled at, no?"

"Uh, thanks but," she started. "What's going on? Is everything alright?"

William hummed. "Yes, I think so. Though Pomfrey did leave in a bit of a hurry. Upset stomach, I think."

_Oh._

Turning towards him she frowned. "You shouldn't have scared Meridith like that. She looked very upset."

"She's upset everyday." he shrugged. "What's a little more today? Besides, today is supposed to be your day. Getting a wonderful morning is worth for you is worth Whiny Meri getting a little more uppity than usual."

Ruby bit her lip for a moment. "Thank you. I really appreciate it but—"

"—you would prefer I never do it again." he finished for her. "You truly cannot celebrate at the displeasure of others even if it benefits you."

"Sorry." she mumbled.

"No need to fret. Some people are just made to be Hufflepuffs."

"Puffle-what?"

"You'd know soon enough." he sat back down. "If we're placing any money on it, I bet ten sickles."

"How did you know I was going to school?"

"Hogwarts. It's called Hogwarts." He nodded at the door. "People talk and so do elves. Silencing charms can only do so much."

"Oh."

After a moment of silence, Ruby cleared her throat.

"I guess, I'll go ahead and, uh, celebrate."

"Go ahead."

Without another word she turned and went back to Agatha's bed. Ruby sometimes forgets that Williams could hear nearly as well as Velvet could. Walls have ears. And so do hybrid humans and dysfunctional Animagi. Perhaps he already knows about the owl that is most likely distressed to be abandoned.

Arriving at Agatha's, she can hear her steady snoozing. Ruby gently urged the curtains open by her feet, light streamed in.

The owl was gone.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Admittedly, sometimes I forget that I ever ever wrote this story. I didn't really plan to write another chapter until I read what Ivygldg posted in the reviews. (I'm surprised people still find this story at all), along with some other more recent ones. I don't know how many would find this story again or if they would still be interested, but I hope that those that do will enjoy this little story I made.

Thanks as always!

Sincerely,

PTH

**_Coming up! Chapter Five: The Outside_**


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